Normally I don't much care for writing poetry. Constraints can be useful for creative exploration, but I usually wind up feeling overconstrained by rules governing rhyme and meter. At some point the rules stop being welcome milestones for navigation and start being frustrating limits on what I can say. Though prose can seem more mundane upon reading, it's liberating to be able to write unbounded by artificial and unnecessary structure. Sometimes, though, it's nice to do something different.
I woke up this morning and decided I'd rather write some haikus than keep packing for my departure to Arizona. Here they are:
I think I want to
be a Renaissance man, but
napping is cool, too.
As an engineer,
gravity bothers me, but
I like that stars shine.
Girl in a green dress
Standing on the median
Should've hit the brakes.
I want another
haiku. Because of pride? Or
because I like them?
Taylor Swift makes more
money and music than me.
That's okay. She's pretty.
Thermonuclear
war is exciting to the
imagination.
The problem is that
we might someday play it for
real. That would be bad.
I find writing more
interesting than lunch, but I'm
also hungry now.
Moving all my stuff,
I marvel at how much should
have been trashed before.
I understand that
aerothermochemistry
is a thing. Wait. What?
Freedom from want is
the best place to be, but I
want it. Dammit, brain.
Writing about flow
is hard. Minds don't like thinking
about ego loss.
Did I write this just
for symmetry, or because
I want more haikus?
Some of these refer to real things. Most of them seem to be fairly meta. If only there wasn't still so much packing to do, I might be able to make better sense of what I'm trying to say, assuming that such a thing exists.
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